Finality
by archylte
Summary: "A long time ago a Keyblade Wielder saved my life, and I intend to return the favour." The end came in the form of Heartless, robbing lives and turning their victims into more deranged monsters. The only force capable of fending them off is the legendary Keyblade Wielder, but this misfit academy is nowhere near ready to take on the apocalypse. [Zombie Apocalypse!AU]


The chalk was brittle and powdery between her thin, delicate fingers. Easy strokes painted the sidewalk with lines of pastel. She'd been sitting here for a while now, the texture of the concrete beneath her was digging into her skin. There were other kids on the street as well, at the bottom of the sloping hill was a baseball game, while there was a group of girls sitting on the sidewalk applying make up meant for the growing curious female and giggling about boys before they were too young to comprehend love. The girl was all alone, as usual, but she didn't mind; friends would only bring her down anyway.

"What's that supposed to be?" an obnoxious voice said from behind her. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was. The sound resonated with her highest level of irritability.

_Go away, Roxas._

She continued to draw. She didn't realise _this_ very response was what spurred him on to be an annoying git. A child crying for attention seemed, in her eyes, petty.

Her father had found her third hidden sketchbook and burned it in the fireplace. Roxas' mom had complained about the noise this morning when he'd found out and called her a useless child. At least she had the sidewalk to entertain herself. It was all she had left. She didn't like watching television like normal children, and she'd already shredded through all her books.

She knew Roxas' attempts to irritate her were simply because he had trouble making friends on his own.

Checkered sneakers scuffed the head of her cat drawing and she looked up with big, unimpressed blue eyes.

"What are you drawing?" he asked her, demanding an answer.

Her tone was quiet and emotionless as she answered, "Are you mentally deficient?"

_You're fourteen, act your age._

Roxas flushed and sneered at her, "No. Your drawings are ugly."

"Thank you."

"For what?" he replied, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

_For acknowledging them._

Roxas let out a huff, kneeling next to her and tugging on her hair, "You're such a weirdo, Naminé."

"Stop pulling my hair."

"Make me," he laughed.

She couldn't understand how anyone could put up with him, and was puzzled by how popular he was at school. Roxas was a heart throb (apparently, she liked to avoid idle adolescent gossip), mostly due to his boy band looks and bad boy attitude. He'd always just been a pest to her, and he didn't exactly see her as anything more than a socially-inept weirdo.

He let go. He proceeded to pick up a stick of chalk and started adding stripes to her kitty cat. She didn't mind and liked the way his firm strokes added so much personality to the picture. She knew her father would probably clean the driveway of her 'stupid little pictures' but she found joy in creating them nonetheless. She started to draw an angel, and Roxas was on that immediately, adding a beautiful set of wings. He was so proud of his work that he took a picture of it with his phone, framed on the left side with a shot of Naminé's profile.

"They're still ugly."

"Mhmm," she replied.

She wished she had something to remember this picture as well, but she had grown deprived of most technology, and didn't crave for it either. She wouldn't know how to work a camera to save her life.

Naminé returned to her house after refusing to acknowledge Roxas' continuous attempts to make her cry. He rode off on his skateboard.

Dinner was green beans with mince and rice. Naminé spent fifteen minutes meticulously picking out the meat. After dinner she slipped into her white night gown, watched her father watch the news, and was sent to bed once the clock struck nine o'clock. She dreamt that night of angels with chalk wings and eyes the colour of Roxas'; clear blue, the colour of the skies you only hear about in fairy tales.

* * *

Naminé was jostled awake by a scream. She looked around the room in fright, pulling the covers to her chest when she heard an ear-splitting scratch sound coming from the window. Her heart stopped when she saw long black claws leave bright silver streaks against the demented glass.

Something was definitely wrong.

She could hear the sound of cars and people screaming, as well as police sirens echoing into the night. Confused, she jumped out of bed, launching at the door to jangle the door knob open. She crashed into the hallway and skidded to a stop, twisting the knob violently, gasping when she opened the door. Her parent's window had been completely ripped open, along with most of the supporting wall. Their bed had been trashed, their dresser tipped over and spilling, blood smeared all over the sheets and floor, as if someone had grabbed their bloodied bodies and dragged them out into the night.

Her heart was thudding in her ears and she was at a loss.

_What's happening? Where are my parents?_

She closed the door when she heard the scratching noise on the window again. Naminé went back to her room to find her sandals and slip them on. There was an insistent knocking on the front door, and naively thinking that it might be her parents, she opened it only for a lady and a smaller child behind her to run in. Naminé tilted her head curiously before trying to peek through the door. The woman slammed it shut, barricading the entrance with one of the sofas.

Naminé tilted her head to observe her new companions, looking at their torn up bodies. There were scratches all over them, and the big, deep ones had started splotching black skin around the wounds. It was a terrible sight. The child looked a few years younger than herself, nursing an ankle bent at a terrible angle.

"Oh my god," said the strange woman. "Thank you so much for letting us in. Something terrible is happening out there." She looked down at Naminé, eyes wide with confusion and fear, "Where are your parents?"

"Most likely dead," Naminé answered, the statement slipping out of her lips before she had full control of her mouth. She hadn't been awake a full ten minutes and she was already accepting that something so dastardly could have befallen her mother and father. She couldn't help it though, she sensed that they weren't alive anymore, and the evidence in their room had basically confirmed it for her.

"What?" the lady said in disbelief.

"Mommy, my leg hurts."

"I'm sorry, Honey." She turned from her child to Naminé, "Um, do you have a first aid kit?"

Naminé left for the bathroom, pulling the box out with clumsy fingers. As she passed her parent's room again, she heard the scratching noise and dropped the first aid kit. She used the desk in the hallway to barricade the door. She doubted it was her parents grating the windows. Trembling fingers brought forth the medicinal supplies before she flopped to the floor next to the child.

"What's going on?"

The woman looked reluctant to answer, but as she started to wrap the child's sores and quickly disinfect the child's blackening wounds, she said, "There are monsters out there. They're… they're black, with golden eyes and they have thin bodies, like a skeleton, and they make a weird noise whenever they move. They're killing people. If you get attacked by a big one, your body… I-it's horrible…"

The room was engulfed in silence, the only sound coming from the screaming sirens.

There was a loud thump at the door.

They crashed through the wood like it was paper, shredding it to bits within seconds. That was the first time she saw them. These ugly, deformed creatures looked like the remnants of a human soul forced through the terrors of Hell. Their limbs were stick thin, but their claws were sharp like needles, glowing yellow eyes as bright as a neon sign, and the noise that they made was truly terrifying.

* * *

Naminé brought the edge of her skirt up to her eyes, examining the tears and stains of blood and dirt on them. Scratches littered her legs and arms. There were rips all over her night gown.

She was so incredibly hungry. She was sitting in an abandoned restaurant and had just managed to escape the horrific creatures. She could hear them thumping against the barricaded door and the constant hiss that followed large packs around. She hadn't seen any of the big ones when she climbed through the window, so hopefully she wouldn't have to deal with them breaking the door down.

Her eyes roved over her sandals, scuffed and ruined from too much running. Her hands were shaking and weak with hunger. Her thin, pale arms were littered with cuts, all in the middle of healing; from fresh, dripping wounds to scabby messes. Her mother would have yelled her ears of for dirtying herself this badly, but she wasn't there anymore.

Weeks ago she found her parent's clothes when she came back to her house for supplies. She wanted to take advantage of it before someone broke in and ransacked it. Their clothes were torn up and shredded, but it looked like they had been removed and neatly pressed into the lawn. It was as if her parents had disappeared, leaving their clothes behind. She grabbed her mother's turquoise engagement ring, which was still a little too big to fit on Naminé's tiny fingers. She looped it around her thumb, where the base of the appendage found purchase.

She focused on the ring now instead of the sound of creatures scratching at the door. She hoped they didn't find their way to the windows. She utterly hated the sound they made when they scratched the windows. Gathering her strength, she found a frying pan from behind the counter of the restaurant and brandished it like a weapon, just in case there was someone else among piles of dirty dishes located in the kitchen.

She stepped into the kitchen, terrified she was going to find a monster when she really found a man, bruised and bloody, suffering from gashes that looked beyond repair.

"Please…" he wheezed, unable to open his eyes.

Naminé didn't know what to do at first, so she decided to satisfy her own needs. She looked around the kitchen, finding a can of tuna, corn and -to her immense happiness- bottled water. She sat down opposite the man and opened the can of corn, debating whether she really wanted to eat the tuna or not. She tossed the lid away, listening to the clatter on the tiles before greedily drinking down the corn, the sound of her stomach becoming deafening in the tiny room.

There was no way she could ignore the sight of the dying man. Greedily drinking down all the water, she sighed and put the bottle down gently, knowing she'd have to refill it before she left. The man was slumped against the corner, legs splayed, torso displayed with gashes that were slowly turning the surrounding skin black. His eyes were closed, but she knew that they'd probably adopted a Hellish golden glow.

Knowing that he didn't have much time left, she got up to retrieve a spoon from one of the drawers, opening the can and spooning some of the tuna. She held it up to the man's lips but he simply shook his head. He looked malnourished.

"No…" he sighed. "There's no point. I'm a goner."

Naminé furrowed her eyes and pouted, forcing the spoon forwards. The man accepted the food, but he looked guilty about it, finally opening his eyes. She was right, the outer rim of his irises were gold, and there were a few specks of gold flecking through his brown eyes. Lifting a shaking hand, he reached behind him to pull out a knife. At first she thought that he was going to try to harm her, but he pressed the knife in her hands, her eyes going wide with realisation.

"Please end me."

Naminé dropped the can of tuna and the knife in surprise. She let out a tiny gasp and shook her head furiously.

"I'm… I'm going to be one of them soon," he said hoarsely, gesturing his head to the sound of disgruntled night creatures, though it looked like it ached to do so. "You have to kill me, before I become like them."

Naminé knew he was right, his eyes were starting to lose their brown depth and the black of his skin was creeping up his neck, soon to engulf the rest of his pale colour. Naminé let out a shaky sigh, lip quivering as she picked up the knife. The man raised his hand to find the pulse on his neck and Naminé gulped as tears slipped down her cheeks. It was effortless really. The man seemed numb to her actions. It was over quickly.

"Thank… you…" he said as he slowly closed his eyes, the red-black blood pouring down his chest as life left his body. Naminé wiped her eyes and went to fill up the water bottle. She couldn't stay here any longer.

She was filling up the water when in the reflection of the stove top, she saw the image of a boy with golden eyes. She whirled around, scared stupid by the thought of a surprise attack, but no one was there.

* * *

She didn't know where to go this time. There was a wave of them, a massive tsunami dedicated to her eradication, and all she had on her was a ichor-crusted knife. She was panting and out of breath, hungry and tired and it looked like this alleyway was going to be the death of her. Despite all that she kept on pushing, willing her legs to go faster as the sound of their shifting shadow bodies congealed into a mass symphony.

_There's a fence!_

She didn't know what she was going to do! How was she supposed to climb a fence that high? She blinked, and suddenly there was someone on the other side of the fence. She'd seen him a few times before, the boy with the yellow eyes. She wanted to ask him so much, how had he gained those iridescent yellow eyes without getting scratched by the creatures? Why was his skin so white, so pale? How did he appear before her, but remained out of her grasp?

She was almost at the fence when he made a beckoning motion, and suddenly she was filled with determination to reach him. She tackled the fence, digging the tips of her sandals into the holes of the fence. It had never seemed hard before, but actually climbing a fence was so much harder than she'd originally anticipated. Still, she couldn't stop now. The creatures were right under her feet. All of her weight hung on her fingertips, going red from the strain of holding her up.

He just looked on.

_Why won't he help me?_ she wondered, before shaking her head and reaching up to grab more wire. It was a painstakingly slow process, but she managed to get herself over the fence. She dropped down, the shock reverberating through her legs painfully. She needed to remember to roll next time that happened.

She charged forward but the boy with the yellow eyes was gone.

_'I like you.'_

She snapped her head around, looking for the source of the words, but there was no one there.

She was alone.

* * *

She happened upon an abandoned shelter one perilous night only to be greeted with the barrel of a pistol. Her heart froze, as did her body when she came upon a man twice her size with fiery golden eyes.

"Oh my god, you're infected," was the first thing she said.

The man cocked his gun to the side before producing a grin that split his face in two. She was about to run away, but the man reached forward to grab the hem of her dress.

"Let go of me!" she demanded, ready to cut at his hand with her trusty knife.

He let her go, raising both his hands in a peaceful motion. She raised an eyebrow, confused, but still cautious. He seemed to be in his right mind, but his eyes were yellow, how could she trust him?

_You like the yellow-eyed boy, don't you?_

No. She didn't like him. She was intrigued by him. It was a totally different case. This man could shoot her, or be some kind of rapist. How was she meant to trust him?

"Hey, hey, don't be so uptight, poppet. Us humans have got to stick together right?" he said, tossing her his firearm. Her eyes widened as she scrambled to catch it, dropping her knife. She picked up both weapons, and slipped the hilt of her knife into her belt, cocking the gun to face the strange man.

"My name isn't 'poppet'."

"Now isn't that cold?" he teased, placing his hand on his hip. He didn't seem intimidated at all by the fact that he just gave a fourteen-to-fifteen-year-old he barely knew a pistol. She kept it trained on him, with no real intention to fire. "Do you want some chow, girlie? I've got some tinned spaghetti if you want it."

Naminé furrowed her eyebrows and bit her lip. She didn't want to trust this man, but she hadn't eaten in what she thought was four days. She put down the gun slowly, and nodded her head. He tossed her the can followed by a bottle of water.

"Why are you giving rations away?" she asked in confusion, all the while ripping the tin lid off, wiping her hands on her skirt before using her fingers to scoop the pasta out. The food was cold and didn't taste nice at all, but Naminé had been near starvation too many times and anything to fill the void that was her stomach was welcomed with open arms. She got pasta sauce all over her face but still ate so fast she got hiccups. She skulled the water at a ridiculously fast pace, unable to remember the last time she'd been this satisfied.

When she was done, she sat down and allowed the food to settle, holding in her breath to stop the hiccups from continuing. She hadn't met another survivor for months.

"My name's Braig," he said, reaching forward to shake her hand.

Naminé suddenly felt embarrassed, her hands covered in sauce, but she wouldn't dare use the water to wash the filth away. She wiped her hands on her skirt again, lamenting once more the loss of her beautiful clothes. She was lucky that she went through puberty fairly early, so that she didn't have to deal with finding new clothes or shoes as often as another girl in her position might have needed to. The blond reached forward to shake Braig's hand.

"Naminé."

That night she slept better than she had in a long time, being fed and tired as she was. When she woke up, however, she found herself in a predicament she would have traded all the spaghetti sauce in the world to escape. She'd been tied against the door knob of the rinky-dink shelter with tough, scratchy rope. She had one hand free, but her knife had been removed from her belt and tossed just out of her reach. Braig was dusting his hands like he'd done a mighty fine job.

"Why are you doing this?" Naminé howled.

_I don't understand! Is he going to beat me? Rape me? What is he doing? Is he going to watch as the creatures take me?_

"If I can keep you 'tied up' long enough, I won't have to worry so much about the Heartless hoard outside, won't I?"

"No!" she shrieked, struggling against her confines like a savage, so desperate she rubbed her wrists raw until they burned. Braig picked up his pistol, thought about bringing her flimsy little knife and laughed as he tossed it away. He broke out of the shelter without bothering to close the door.

_The… creatures… What did Braig call them? 'Heartless'? They're going to get in through the door. I need to get out of this._

She struggled for an endless amount of time, tears leaking out when she realised that she was never going to break free. She reached for her knife with all the determination that she had, bordering on popping her arm out of her socket to reach the damn thing. But it was never going to work. It was too far.

She was doomed.

She closed her eyes, trying to come to terms with her situation when she heard the distinct sound of the creatures coming closer. Terror filled Naminé and her eyes snapped open.

Naminé almost screamed, but the force of her voice was so weak she didn't manage to get the sound out. Standing before her was the boy with the yellow eyes. He approached her in a way she'd never seen a human move, with a body so fluid it looked like it was made of shadows, or smoke. He knelt by her, and she was captivated by his large golden eyes. He couldn't have been that much older than herself, and the expression he held, one of curiosity, didn't look threatening at all. She should have been embarrassed; dirty clothes, matted hair, skin criss-crossed with scars, but she wasn't. She was completely transfixed.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

He raised a hand, and it was only then did she see what he was wearing, a bodysuit that looked as if it was carved from muscle, black and red, unlike anything she had ever seen before. When he reached forward to gently stroke her cheek she resisted at first because his hands felt like they were made of wind itself and it chilled her to the bone. He released a breath and then smiled, raising a hand gathering shadows around his fingers to form talon-like claws, which he used to gently cut the ropes binding her.

She looked up at her bonds as they fell to the floor, but when she looked back, the boy with the yellow eyes was just walking to the exit. Grabbing her knife she moved to follow him, but when she stepped out the door he was gone once again.

* * *

"WATCH OUT!"

Naminé had been walking through an alley of dark city, trying to find her way around a massive 'Heartless'- as Braig called them- hoard that had gathered on the main streets. She thought she had been safe, until she saw a wave of large Heartless heading her way. She started running, but was frantically looking around for the source of the human voice.

Just when she was sure the creatures were going to get her, two men ran out of the shadows of another alley. She was going to keep running- they looked like they had everything under control- when she saw a familiar shock of spiky blond hair.

_"Roxas?!"_

The shorter boy looked back in surprise, _"Naminé?!"_

"Behind you!"

Roxas turned around and just when Naminé thought he was going to get slashed, an amazing black blade materialised in his hand and it slashed through the Heartless easily. She was shocked by the weapon he held. It looked like a giant key. She watched as the other taller, red-haired man summoned two bladed disks and threw them at the Heartless. Every Heartless that touched the man's disks fell prey to the fire and disappeared, evaporating into black smoke.

"Run!" Roxas demanded.

Naminé stalled for a moment, unwilling to leave Roxas' side, but the creatures were splitting their attention between the tall man, Roxas, and Naminé. She didn't have a weapon that could actually harm the monsters like they could.

She ran into the back alleys, hopping over trash cans, and running on the walls to avoid more Heartless. But she had to stop to see how Roxas was doing. She just had to. She doubled back to where Roxas and the red-haired man was just in time to see the Heartless overwhelm them, and they evaporated into black and purple smoke.

The little blond spent the next few days grieving over losing Roxas. They'd never really gotten along before, but he had been the only person she shared a profound bond with, excluding her parents. She would have given anything to have his company now, teasing and insults included.

But Roxas had fought to keep her safe, and now he was dead.

Naminé had never been particularly emotional. It didn't strike her until a possible month had passed to start crying over their deaths. But every barrier she had put up since the apocalypse started crashing down, once it sunk into her that Roxas died. She sunk to her knees in the middle of an alley and started sobbing uncontrollably, uncaring whether the noise she made would attract the miserable Heartless creatures.

The emotional pain reverberated through her in waves. Roxas was dead. Her parents were dead. Anyone she had ever known was dead. They weren't coming back. She was alone in the world with no one but skeletal, blood-thirsty monsters. She got on all fours and screamed her anguish to the bricks beneath her, banging her fists against the floor.

The Heartless came for her pain.

_And that is how I died._

* * *

When Naminé woke up there was a Heartless on top of her, staring right at her. Immediately letting out a terrified scream, she felt around for something to hit it with when something materialised in her hand, slashing through the Heartless effortlessly. The smoke of the creature blew away and Naminé got up shakily.

She looked down at herself, taking in her torn clothing and the scars accompanying them, but she felt fine. She felt better than she had in a long time.

She raised what she was holding in her hand and was surprised to find that it was a giant key, made of shimmering white-blue steel. She swung it around experimentally, noting that even though it looked rather heavy, it was light and the grip was firm in her hands. It was a gorgeous weapon, and even better than that was it could slice through Heartless in a way that none of her previous items ever had before.

She looked around and sat down, crossing her legs to examine the blade. It was glowing white with a tinge of blue, and had an intricate design that looked delicate like a flower, but powerful, like ice. The three sharp spike at the end of her weapon made it look like a key.

Naminé got up and tried to brush herself off the best she could. She needed to find more clothes, and some food. As always, she was starving and incredibly thirsty. She broke into the nearest apartment and to her delight, she found a backpack and a bathtub full of water. She washed her clothes, put them into the backpack, and changed into some baggy jeans and an oversized shirt, thanking the heavens for a pair of well-worn boots.

She was walking around in search for food and clean water when she thought of the how she came to be. Roxas had sacrificed his life to save hers. She felt extremely sad about it, but not enough to cause a major breakdown like before, as it seemed. Good. That breakdown had almost cost her her life.

Wait.

_I'm… I'm absolutely sure I died._

She felt like she had been shred to pieces. She saw the white light. But she had been given a second chance, something she wasn't exactly thrilled about. She closed her eyes, rubbing them until she saw a rainbow beneath the lids.

_Who'd want to come back into this world?_

She opened her eyes, panicking when she saw a wave of black creatures heading in her direction. Maybe her real death wasn't that far after all.

"Please, anywhere but here!" she yelled to the heavens as she started running away. As soon as she did that, a mass of black-purple shadow appeared in front of her. She couldn't stop herself in time, and ended up tumbling into the black mass. She felt like the pressure was hitting her from every angle, but as soon as it started, it stopped and she was at the abandoned restaurant she had taken shelter in year before.

The pool of black beneath her shrunk and disappeared, and she was left to wonder what the Hell had just happened. She felt exhausted.

* * *

When she woke up the boy with the yellow eyes was hovering over her, looking almost sad. When she opened her eyes fully, she tried to quell her panic and moved to sit up, noticing there was a bunch of stuff next to her bag.

"Who are you?" she asked the black-haired boy. His iridescent golden eyes blink at her curiously before he gestured to the stuff he'd probably left by her bag. There were numerous cans of tinned food and several jars of strange green liquid which changed shade depending on the angle, stars floating in them like they hadn't a care in the world. They looked beautiful. "Are you ever going to tell me your name?"

He smiled and leant forward to stroke her cheek gently, then he started walking away. When she tried to run after him, he disappeared again, and she couldn't help but feel like she'd lost another friend.

* * *

She didn't know how long it had been since the apocalypse started, but realistically speaking, it felt like several years. Her sanity was starting to make her hallucinate of times she desperately wished she could revisit. Even when everyone was calling her an emotionless freak, at least there was someone to _do_ that. Now she was speaking to herself so she didn't feel so completely alone. Sometimes she would speak to the ring from her mother that now fit on her pointer finger, and she'd feel a little better in the endless nothingness.

Naminé felt like she hadn't eaten for days, but what was new? She'd come to use her magical blade, which faded in and out of existence whenever she needed it, to her best ability, but sometimes it still wasn't enough.

She settled in a shelter, delighted to find an old notebook and a box of working pens, which she used to write out her feelings and draw pictures to distract her from her growing hunger. She wrote down everything that had happened since the apocalypse started; she drew pictures of the dead bodies, of the Heartless, but mostly of Roxas. She remembered everything about him now, having had all the time to cement what she gathered from her photographic memory. When she was done, she summoned one of the black-purple holes- now under her control- and thought about tossing it through, just to see if she could find her notebook in a few years time. She nodded her head and tossed it through.

She'd discovered very little of the black-purple portals, two things; 1. The more energy she used to power the black hole, the farther she could go, 2. If she didn't concentrate on where she wanted to be, she could end up anywhere in Dark City.

_Maybe, if I used up all of my strength, the black portals can take me somewhere else?_

_Where though?_

_Anywhere but here._

Naminé knew the idea in itself was very dangerous, but what other choice did she have?

It was becoming impossible to find food and water. There were Heartless everywhere, and she was rapidly going insane from loneliness.

She summoned another black hole, no destination in mind, merely the distance. Steeling her nerves, she clenched her fists and started sprinting into the darkness.

* * *

_"I'm so happy you're safe."_

* * *

**finality**

one

* * *

_Hi, my name is Deo. I am a first time writer, taking over this story from the amazing Kacey (fauxli) in the hopes that I can do it justice. If you found this interesting, please leave a review. It would mean a lot._

_Naminé's blade is named 'Lunar Eclipse' and was designed by CBJ3 on DeviantART._

_This story combines elements of Dead Fantasy and typical zombie apocalypses, with a special Kingdom Hearts twist to each level._

_Kingdom Hearts belongs to Square Enix and Disney. Dead Fantasy belongs to Monty Oum._

_Ciao._

**240414:** _Since the crash-landing of Kace onto this account, she has since decided to help on the project whenever she has the spare time._


End file.
